


Of Men and Monsters

by neverweremine



Series: More Spider Than Man [2]
Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: Body Horror, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverweremine/pseuds/neverweremine
Summary: The Spider turned his head to the comatose body in the corner. He waited."If you go," growled Goblin, "then I'll give you double his weight in meat."Nodding his assent, he quickly put on the jeans, cap, sneakers, and hoodie. Hey, at least it wasn't green.
Series: More Spider Than Man [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876846
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Of Men and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [X_Gon_Give_It](https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_Gon_Give_It/gifts).



> Commission for X_Gon_Give_It

The fog which had clouded his brain for so long vanished with every bite and the aches which had left him weakened and defenseless eased with sleep. By the time several days passed, it was as if he'd turned into a new person altogether. Vague memories of Before whirled in his mind, but he dismissed it. The Spider, no longer restricted by cumbersome discomforts, turned his energy into exploring his new environment.

The Green Goblin's lair was very...green. A bank of hexagonal monitors bathed the floor and walls in green light while the rest sat in darkness. The only non-green light shone from the stained glass windows high above, and that was where the Spider spent most of his time, watching from above as the Goblin worked.

"We should eat him," said Spider as the Goblin walked past the tube housing the Octopus. It had been days, but still, he would not let him feast. "Why won't you let me eat him?"

"As dastardly evil as I may be, I am _not_ stooping into cannibalism."

"Kill him?"

"We could, but where's the fun in that? Our little friend here still needs to pay for what he did to me, what he did to _us_ , and death is too easy an escape. No, we let him live, but only just."

The Spider huffed but did not argue. He supposed it didn't matter much; it had been days and the Octopus hadn't awoken yet, and judging by the bruises still lingering over his pale skin, it would be a while before he woke again...if he ever did. Disregarding the Octopus and his fragile body, the Spider crawled down from his perch and did his daily observations of the monitors. Every day they differed. Some days the monitors would have architect blueprints, chemical formulas, drawn-up business agreements, and news stations. On others, there would be bomb modifications, glider designs, and shock glove improvements.

Today was a mix of news stations, architect blueprints, and shock glove improvements. He scowled at the news reporter, an old man with a funny mustache and a voice that could have soldiers quaking in their boots, and quickly crawled his way to the other end where a familiar boy sat in a familiar room. No matter how many days passed, the goblin never changed this monitor, and by now he had grown accustomed to the fancy furniture, the muted sounds of television, the warm tones of a place he'd never been in.

(...or had he?)

"Who is he?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"The boy you keep watch of. Is he your next target?"

The hairs on his right side were still singed, which was the only reason the Goblin was able to grab his arm in one painfully tight grip. "Forget the boy," he said. "He's no one. I don't want you to be looking at this monitor again, you hear me?"

Solid yellow eyes glared at him. Idly, he wondered if the Goblin's vision was impaired to favor the color green or if it was simply a part of the motif. He smiled, opening his maw wide and spreading his pedipalps. "Yes, sir. Won't look at it again."

The Goblin let him go with a single, disapproving tut. He returned to his little chem station in the corner, mixing chemicals while writing things down with a pencil smaller than his pinky. It would've been a laughable sight if the Spider were in a laughable mood. Instead, he eyed the full syringe rack next to a large, green elbow and backed away, returning to his perch near the window.

.

The sunlight had faded, replaced by orange-yellow lamplights that dotted the sidewalks. The streets, which had been packed during daylight hours, petered out until only one or two pedestrians passed below the stained glass. Throughout the entire day, no one had looked up or even glanced at the cathedral's doors. He didn't know why, but he was waiting for someone to look up.

"Catch."

The Spider caught the bundle with one hand. Turning from the window, he shook out the fabric to reveal a deep maroon hoodie, a baseball cap, and a pair of jeans and sneakers. He lowered his arms until the offending garments were out of view. "What's this for?"

"You're going to finally earn your keep. Oh, don't look at me like that," spat the Goblin, "we both know I didn't rescue you out of love and mushy feelings. I need to get something and unfortunately," he stressed the last word as if it was truly unfortunate, "between the two of us, you're the more human-looking. All you need to do is hide your extra arms in the hoodie, keep your head down, and get it then get out. Here-"

Using his last arm, the spider caught a little device no bigger than an actual fly.

"Put it in your ear and I'll be able to guide you to what I need. I'll follow close behind in case you get caught, but," his yellow eyes narrowed as he said, "I'd rather you not get caught."

The Spider turned his head to the comatose body in the corner. He waited.

"If you go," growled Goblin, "then I'll give you _double_ his weight in meat."

Nodding his assent, he quickly put on the jeans, cap, sneakers, and hoodie.

Hey, at least it wasn't green.

.

Walking with four of his arms stuffed in a hoodie was a pain. It was a wonder that anyone with only two arms could walk straight. The Spider kept his head ducked as he walked into the building's lobby but he needn't have bothered. The sole occupant of the lobby, a middle-aged security guard, sat at the front desk with his cap lowered and none-too-gentle snores erupting from his dozing body.

"Lazy bum," muttered Goblin over the comm.

"Should I eat him?"

"Tempting, but no. SHIELD must be searching everywhere for you and we don't want to give them a hint too early, do we?"

The spider remained silent. If the Goblin noticed, he didn't comment, instead instructing him to get into the elevator. The Spider did as he was told, but when he went to swipe the key-card, something curious happened. It didn't work. He said as much. "It's not working."

"What do you mean it's not working?"

"It's not working. Are you sure you have the right one?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"The card reader doesn't seem so sure."

"I should've known your bad humor would crop up sooner or later. They must've changed things around since I left. No matter. They have a keypad in there, correct?"

"Yes."

"Enter the numbers: 1-0-0-8-9-6. Then double-tap the enter key."

He did as instructed and the elevator shook, and soon after the floor numbers began rapidly increasing. The Spider waited alongside generic elevator music before the elevator halted and the door opened to reveal the 90th floor.

"Chances are, if they've rejected my key-card, then the key I gave you won't work. I trust you can get in on your own _without_ causing wanton destruction? I need you to be sneaky."

"The roof."

"What?"

He knelt next to the penthouse door and brought one of his claws to the keyhole. "If you really wanted me to be sneaky, you would've had me go through the rooftop access. It's easier and it leads right into the penthouse." He didn't know why he had this knowledge in his head, but it was there, as vivid and certain as thunder following lightning. The Goblin didn't seem too pleased with the helpful information, however.

"Why do you -? No, of course, you know a way into _my_ penthouse, because you're Spider-Man and you do whatever you want."

"You sound mad."

The door opened with a click and it struck him then. He knew exactly where he was. For someone else, the couch and TV might've been blobs in the dark, but he could tell the divide between the cushions and the back; where the TV sat in front of the wall; how many individual steps made the whole staircase.

"Can you see?" asked the Goblin.

"Yes," he answered, brushing his hands against the back of the couch the boy lounged on just hours ago, aimlessly flipping the channels with the remote. The remote, which lay skewed on the rug, as if tossed after an unfulfilling day.

"Good. I need you to climb the stairs and go down the hallway; the last door on the right. Do not make a sound."

It was easy to do as the Goblin instructed. He went into the room - a bedroom with a minimalist design, papers strewed on the bedside table with a layer of dust, a picture frame laid face down on the dresser - and got the small box hidden behind a secret panel in the room with no problem. But as he climbed back down the stairs, light spilled in from the adjacent room - the kitchen, his mind told him - and he froze as the sounds of clattering pots and pans echoed through the large penthouse.

"What's he doing up?" asked the Goblin. He couldn't tell if the extra crackle was from the comms or the Goblin himself. "It's a school night, he shouldn't be up."

"Should I eat him?" asked the Spider.

"No, just leave. We got what we came here for. You can leave through that rooftop access you like so much."

The Spider grinned. He put his hands on the wall but frowned when his sneakered feet met the wall. Can't climb with those things on. Dismissively, he untied the sneakers and threw it over his shoulder, relishing the fresh air that hit his feet in the seconds before the TV turned on.

"Shit."

"What did you do?"

The TV blared on in the background as the clattering from the kitchen stopped for a breathtaking few beats. Oh no. He spared a glance to where the sneakers landed, one on the couch and the other damningly near the remote, before scurrying up the wall.

"Is anyone there?" called the boy, breath shaky. His shadow came first, long and indistinct, and then he was there, under the archway, body tense and curled inward and wielding a giant frying pan. The Spider tensed from where he sat, several feet above the wall. The TV still went on, running a black and white romantic comedy movie. A soft lullaby-esque song began playing, filling the room with violins.

"I know you're there. TV's don't turn on by themselves," stuttered the boy, squinting in the darkness. The Spider lifted his wrist and aimed at the boy's-

"Don't!" yelled the Goblin right as the boy whipped his head, catching the movement in the darkness. The Spider froze.

"Spider-Man...is that you?" he asked. He cautiously got closer, one hand on the frying pan and the other patting the wall next to him. The Spider only had a few precious seconds to register what was happening before it happened. The hanging chandelier which he had been eye level with burst into light. He tore through the hoodie as he used two of his arms to shield his sensitive eyes and the other four to climb further up, into the shadow.

"You're not Spider-Man!" The boy shrieked, horrified. It was a familiar shriek, one that tugged at his memories, and as his eyes adjusted to the light he lowered his arms to find the boy swinging his frying pan wildly. He had seen the boy, of course, on the monitors and in the dark but there was something different about seeing him close in the light. He couldn't put his claw on it, but that auburn hair, and those cerulean eyes...

"Get out of there or I'm getting you out," growled the Goblin. He sounded pissed. Making sure he still had the package, the Spider quickly climbed the ceiling and made his way to the rooftop access, paying no mind to the panicking boy below.

.

"You care for him."

"Hmm?"

The Goblin was at his chemistry station again, doing something with the package the Spider had gotten for him. From his spot near the window, he couldn't tell what he was doing, but whatever it was had the Goblin excited. Animated. It disturbed him how a creature so big could be so animated.

"The boy you keep watch over. You care for him. You wouldn't even let me web him."

The Goblin snarled as if the very thought was repulsive. "Harry?" he said. "No, I could care less about Harry. We may share a few recessive genes but that's all."

Didn't care about the Spider or the Octopus or the boy. "Do you care for anyone at all?"

"Oh yes, I care about someone very deeply. In fact, we'll be recruiting him soon; my real son."

"Real son?"

The Goblin turned around and raised a single syringe filled with swirling black and red liquid.

"My real son… Peter Parker."

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Neverweremine1)


End file.
